Golden Opportunity
by Roxy Rosee
Summary: AU With Merle back in prison, Daryl finally builds up the courage to call the number he's been holding onto for months now: Escorts by Eloise. The thing is, Daryl isn't actually looking for a girl... Daryl/Shane


**_A/N: So this happened. Loosely based on a little exchange between Andy and Norman where Andy complements him extensively and then Norm responds "I'll pay you later." B_****_ut then I made it about Sharyl. Because everything in my life is about Sharyl. This is one big sexy monster and I hope y'all enjoy!_**

**Golden Opportunity**

In the span of only an hour, Daryl had picked up the phone to cancel his order a good six times. He paced back and forth across his closet of an apartment. He and Merle had shared it, right up until the day his predictable older brother had been caught dealing again, and had been thrown right back into county.

At twenty-one, Daryl didn't get scared anymore when his brother got arrested. He could take care of himself just fine, and it was a hell of a lot easier to keep a steady job without Merle rolling through to fuck everything up at a moment's notice. And even though he felt like an asshole for thinking it, Daryl was pleased to have the place to himself for a change. He'd spent his first week alone scrubbing everything down from floor to ceiling, even re-painting the sullied walls of Merle's room. The place finally felt like a home. But still, it took a while for Daryl to acknowledge the real reason he'd been less than contrite to hear about his brother's misfortune.

The younger Dixon had picked up the tattered old business card from a dingy corkboard outside a bar two towns over. _Escorts by Eloise._ It was a stupid fucking name, and the small piece of paper had burned a hole in his pocket persistently ever since. He'd hidden it in the same place he kept his measly porn collection and emergency cash, underneath a loose board in the living room, and far away from Merle's prying eyes and sticky fingers.

When Daryl had finally mustered up the courage to make the call, it had been only moments after the cops had informed him that Merle was going away for "the long haul." At a payphone off in the middle of nowhere, Daryl finally felt secure enough to give it a try. And even so, he found his eyes darting wildly across the empty landscape, vigilant for witnesses.

"Escorts by Eloise. How can I help you?" a low, sultry voice answered on the third ring.

Daryl's heart stuttered against his chest, and he was sure she could hear it on the other end of the line. "I—I, uh…"

His mind went blank, tongue numb and heavy in his mouth. Even though it hurt to admit it, Daryl had been waiting for an opportunity like this pretty much since he hit puberty. He'd heard about services like this before, from his dad's hunting buddies and the band of thugs Merle used to hang around with. You had to be twenty-one, for most places to call it legal. Then you'd call a number and they'd send a girl over right stat, dressed up all nice for you and spouting bullshit about how you're the best she's ever had, before she'd even walked through the door.

The problem was: Daryl wasn't looking for a girl. Merle had made sure he'd had more than a handful of awkward, one-time experiences, since he'd finally joined him in Macon. And even though Daryl wasn't a virgin anymore, not by anyone's standards, he still _felt_ like one in the only way that counted. And he wasn't sure businesses like this had what he was looking for to begin with, but he had to try, now that he'd finally been given the chance.

"What kind of girl you want, sweetheart?" the woman asked after an elongated silence, sensing his hesitance.

"Ain't lookin' for a girl," Daryl finally managed to mumble.

"Alright," the woman on the other end said, completely unfazed, "Then what kind of man you lookin' for?"

Question answered, Daryl slammed the phone down in a rush. He jumped right into his truck and barreled home, sure, somehow, that _Eloise_ would track him down. The idea had seemed tamer when it was only a vague prospect in the back of his mind. But now that he knew it could be real, not just some frightening fantasy he only allowed himself to consider drunk, Daryl wasn't at all sure he could pull the trigger.

He suffered through an entire week of the woman's question rolling around in his mind, mocking him. _"What kind of man you lookin' for?" _As if he'd know. Daryl wasn't even positive he wanted a man. Maybe his mind always went there because it was something he knew he couldn't have. Like when you try not to think about the word _duck_, and then all you can picture is a bunch of fluffy, yellow beasts.

Maybe if it was women he'd grown up knowing he couldn't be with, he'd be calling on some busty blonde bimbo instead. And it wasn't as if he hadn't enjoy the times he'd been with a girl, but it wasn't all he wanted. Not by a long shot. And Daryl couldn't ignore the way his heart raced at the possibility, not just in fear, but excitement.

Seven full days to think it over, and Daryl finally made the call.

"Escorts by Eloise. How can I help you?" came the same welcome voice from before, and the younger Dixon found the familiarity vaguely comforting.

"M'lookin' for a guy. For tonight," Daryl said. His voice hitched, but only slightly.

"What kind of guy, sweetheart?"

"Uh…"

"Blonde, brunette, muscular, twink…we got it all, honey. What you into?"

"Just…just somebody nice, I guess," Daryl mumbled at long last, hoping he didn't come off too childish.

There was a brief pause, and Daryl worried he hadn't been successful. "Somebody nice," the woman repeated.

"Yeah," Daryl muttered, feeling his cheeks go red, "Just not…rough, or nothin' like that." Because the last thing he wanted was to end up hurting at the end of the night. And given Merle's stories about what the men he knew did to each other inside, Daryl figured it was a distinct possibility that he very much wanted to avoid.

The woman hummed her understanding, and he heard her clicking away at her keyboard. "Know what? I think I've got just the guy for you. His name's Shane, and he's got the whole night free. How long were you lookin' to have him?"

"Uh…"

"You can do an hour, three hours, or book him the whole night. Up to you."

"Whole night, I suppose."

"Alrighty, then. All I need is your phone number, address, and payment info, and we're good to go!"

When Daryl set down the phone, he stared at the wall blankly for several moments before reality set in. _Shane_. That was the name of the man who'd be knocking on his door in an hour's time.

TWDTWDTWDTWD

Shane was punctual, and for that Daryl was grateful. He wasn't sure if he could handle another ten minutes of restless pacing. He opened the door, and was immediately rewarded with a wide, confident smile. Shane had dark, wavy hair and big brown eyes. His skin was tan, like he spent his days working outside, and his muscular arms bulged visibly, even within the confines of his black t-shirt. Daryl figured Shane was older than him, but by half a decade at the most. Not so much that it counted.

"I'm Shane." _Fuck,_ Daryl hadn't realized how long he'd been staring silently at the man in front of him. "And you're Daryl?"

"Mmhmm," Daryl hummed, biting at his lower lip and shifting his weight between his feet.

Shane watched him carefully for a moment, then cocked an eyebrow.

"Alright, go get your coat," Shane said with a tone that held every expectation of Daryl's obedience.

"What?" Daryl near-whispered, confused beyond words. _What if Shane didn't want to stay in his shithole of an apartment? What if Shane didn't want _him_? What if_—_?_

"You look 'bout ready to bolt. But I'm figurin' you called for a reason. So here's the plan: you and me, we're gonna go out and get a drink. You've got me for the whole night anyways, and I think it'd do ya some good to relax a bit, before we get down to whatever ya had in mind. That sound alright to you?"

"I…yeah, guess so," Daryl mumbled.

"Good. We'll take my truck. Now c'mon," Shane encouraged him, and smiled even wider when Daryl hung his head a bit, but finally conceded, allowing the older man to herd him back to his car.

They headed over to Mick's Pub, a hole in the wall type of joint about as far from Daryl's place as they could get without leaving the town's limits. Shane ordered them a couple beers, and they sat at a booth in the corner of the establishment, maintaining an awkward silence.

But of course, Shane wouldn't stand for that. "So what do you do for a living?"

Daryl's eyes darted up to his in surprise. "What's it matter?"

"Man, you're actin' like I'm here to kill ya, or something," Shane laughed, "Thought maybe if we got to know each other a bit, you'd be able to relax. Don't have to, of course. Some guys just wanna get right down to it, no talkin' involved. But you don't seem like one of those guys to me. So, lemme guess: Construction?"

"Mechanic. Why construction?"

"Ya got the build for it. Arms like yours? But anyways, ya seemed the type of guy who'd work with his hands."

"What about you?"

"What about me?" Shane asked, amusement hinted by the slight tweak of the corner of his mouth.

"Do you…uh…do…_this_ full time?" Daryl struggled to get out.

But Shane smiled warmly at him. "S'just for some extra cash, every now and again. With the right clients."

"You get to pick your clients?"

"'Course I do. I usually stick with a handful I know well. A few bored housewives, a couple guys I trust."

"You…you do both?"

"I've got varied tastes," Shane replied with a grin.

"But ya don't know me."

"No, but Eloise had a good feeling 'bout ya. Told me what ya said on the phone, thought we'd get on pretty well."

"Oh," Daryl mumbled, cheeks going hot.

"That ain't a bad thing," Shane said in a softer tone, looking concerned by Daryl's abrupt embarrassment. "But…look, I know this one's gonna make them cheeks of yours light up brighter than a firecracker, but judgin' by how young you look and what ya said on the phone, I gotta ask…this your first time?"

Daryl glared down at his glass. With the tiniest jerk of his chin, he nodded. He was suddenly very much aware of how close Shane's legs were to his under the table.

"Hey, s'nothin' to worry about, man."

"Been with some girls," Daryl mumbled, and caught Shane smiling at him from his periphery.

"Guy with looks like yours? 'Course you have," Shane laughed, "So…what changed?"

That question had Daryl finally raising his gaze.

"What I mean is, why now?" Shane clarified.

"My brother just got sent to county. We lived together. But now he's gone."

"But this ain't just about a warm body," Shane surmised. Because maybe the kid was lonely, but a lonely boy wouldn't suddenly sign up to bat for the other team.

"Just…couldn't do nothin' like this, with Merle around. But now he ain't here…so…"

"Yeah. I get that. Golden opportunity. So lemme ask ya somethin'—how exactly are you lookin' for tonight to go?"

Daryl downed the rest of his beer in a single go. "Ain't thought that far ahead. Just…knew I had to try. Been thinkin' about it long enough."

"Right. Is there anything you _don't_ want to happen?"

"Uh…nothin' violent, I suppose. Are there rules for this?"

"I don't kiss," Shane explained, "And I don't do pain. For either party. You good with that?"

"Yeah, you're the boss," Daryl murmured. Shane thought he saw a flicker of disappointment there, but he couldn't be sure.

"Well, then," Shane sighed, leaning back, "Let's head home."

TWDTWDTWDTWD

Daryl led Shane into his bedroom, for once not bothering to shut the door. His hands were shaking when he sat down on the edge of the mattress, fumbling to take off his boots. Shane, however, was the picture of cool comfort. He moved around Daryl's room as if he'd been there a hundred times, fingering his bow, picking up books off the shelf, and examining the handful of pictures on the wall.

When he turned back to see how Daryl was doing, he couldn't help the affectionate smirk that spread across his face. He'd never been with a virgin in this business, even less so someone as shy and endearing as the boy in front of him. The fact that Daryl trusted him with a moment as monumental as this was huge; and Shane's chest tightened pleasurably at the thought.

Shane had done a lot of things with a lot of clients. He'd fucked and been fucked. He'd had men who wanted to hold him, and women who wanted him to do the holding. But he couldn't remember the last time he'd been with a client and just talked. And he was utterly positive that he'd never been with someone who'd shown him so much reluctant vulnerability in such a short period of time. Shane could see it was taking all Daryl had not to run out of the room. As it was, the boy hadn't even managed to look him in the eye since they'd returned from the bar.

But there was something about him…_Jesus_, Shane was going to get in trouble for this.

He moved slowly over to Daryl, and knelt down in front of him, placing his hands lightly on Daryl's denim-clad knees. The younger boy startled noticeably, but with a quick, deep breath, managed to hold himself together. Daryl finally met his eye, and fuck if those baby blues didn't get him throbbing in want just like a teenager.

"Daryl," Shane murmured, "How do you want this to go?" He cocked his eyebrow for emphasis, but had to stifle a laugh when he realized that Daryl hadn't a clue of what he meant. "You a top or a bottom?"

Recognition and redness flashed across Daryl's cheeks, and his eyes widened. "I dunno," he whispered, seeming blindsided by the question.

"You said you've been thinkin' 'bout this for a while…"

"Yeah, but what I thought about, it wasn't like that. Didn't get that far. Figured it'd depend on who I was with."

"Then, how far we talkin'? Gimme a clue here, Daryl. You want me to suck you? You wanna touch me? What fantasies ya got locked up in that head of yours?"

Shane didn't think it was possible, but Daryl flushed an even deeper shade of crimson. He watched Daryl closely before realization struck him. "Fuck, it wasn't none of that, was it?"

And at that exact moment, Shane decided to throw his rules out the fucking window. He leaned up in a rushed, desperate movement and claimed Daryl's lips. The younger boy, and froze briefly in shock. But it was only half a second more that Daryl began to move his lips hesitantly with Shane's.

He was gentle about it, just as Shane had imagined, and his hands were still lying limply in his lap. Shane traced his tongue across Daryl's lower lip, and the boy shivered violently, moaning a little into Shane's mouth. And fuck if that wasn't the sexiest noise Shane had ever heard.

They broke away with a gasp, Daryl's eyes shimmering with lust and confusion.

"I thought…" the younger Dixon began, but Shane cut him off.

"I know. But I can't fuckin' help myself with you," Shane murmured breathlessly, and immediately leaned in to reclaim Daryl's lips. With Shane's coaxing, hesitant tongues began to massage slowly, and Daryl allowed himself to be lowered back, with Shane laying half on top of him and grinding slowly against his hip.

They migrated to their sides, with Shane holding Daryl close, legs slotted together. Shane ran his fingers through wispy, dark blonde hair and pressed his forehead against Daryl's.

"You coulda told me," Shane panted under his breath, "What you really wanted."

"Wasn't gonna push for somethin' ya didn't wanna do," Daryl mumbled.

"I want it," Shane said, "I want a hell of a lot more of you." He pushed Daryl onto his back and straddled his legs, latching his mouth onto the boy's neck while using his free hand to adeptly unbutton his shirt. He left it hanging open, and he trailed open mouthed kisses from Daryl's clavicle down to his sternum. The breathy, wanting noises Daryl kept gasping had Shane pulsing in his jeans. But that could wait.

Instead, he moved down to one of the rosy peaks of Daryl's chest and sucked gently on the nub, relishing the hiss that came from above him. He pulled back and blew softly, and Daryl bucked up underneath him, already hard and wanting. When Shane moved to his other nipple, tongue darting out to trace small circles around it, Daryl keened lowly, biting at his lip in a hopeless effort to contain his noises.

"Sensitive, huh?" Shane murmured. But Daryl was at a loss for words, back arched gracefully at the onslaught of unfamiliar pleasure.

"Sh—_Shane_," Daryl whispered with his eyes clenched shut.

The other man continued to press sucking kisses down the length of Daryl's torso. "I know, baby. I'm gonna get you there. Just lemme have my fun, first."

"Please, _fuck_…" Daryl whimpered, as Shane slowly lowered his fly and pulled his jeans several inches down. But rather than going in for the gold, as Daryl expected, Shane pressed his mouth to Daryl's hip bone and sucked hard. The boy underneath him wailed and flailed his arms out blindly at what had to be an erogenous zone on fire. But Shane's hands went to Daryl's, holding him by his wrists and softly rubbing the thin skin there as his mouth continued its pleasured torture.

It was so much better than Daryl had imagined. He hardly registered when Shane managed to rid him of all the clothing on his lower half, because Daryl was too preoccupied with the hungry look in the other man's eyes. _That_ was something he hadn't expected. Daryl knew that escorts were experts on sweet talk, stroking a man's ego until it drowned him.

And even though Shane's murmured endearments made Daryl's blood buzz, the younger Dixon knew that no one could fake the _look_ this man was giving him. Desire. Affection. The combination of which left Daryl breathless, both frightened of the effect Shane was having on him, and desperate for it to continue.

"You can stop me any time," Shane murmured against the skin of Daryl's thigh, "This is about makin' you feel good, so you've gotta tell me if there's anything you don't want." When Daryl didn't immediately answer, Shane nipped gently at the sensitive skin between his legs. "Need to hear you say it, Daryl."

"I'll s-stop ya. If I gotta. But please, please Shane—"

"Shh," Shane hummed, low and soothing. "I know, baby. I've got you."

Goddamn, why did that nickname make Daryl's heart shudder against his chest? He didn't have much time to consider before Shane's mouth was descending slowly down his length, keeping his eye as his tongue flicked experimentally at the underside. Daryl moaned loudly, propping himself on his elbows and unable to look away from the striking image of Shane's lips wrapped tightly around him.

The feel of him was molten honey, soaking into his bones and moving slow as molasses. Daryl knew his panting was too damn loud, and that the desperate keening noises he'd make each time Shane paused to swirl his tongue around the head bordered on embarrassing. But none of the girls Daryl had been with had come close to this perfection. None of them had been so tender and unhurried, or looked so fucking happy to have his cock in their mouths.

Shane's eyes were fixed on his face, watching his brow scrunch in pleasure with every small movement. And even though Daryl hated being observed so closely, the fact that Shane was clearly getting off on it more than made up for the flash of discomfort. Lips descended further south, mouthing and sucking at the sensitive skin of his balls.

"Oh…fuck, oh fuck Shane…"

And then Daryl's legs were being wrenched further apart, and Shane's mouth stopped moving.

"Fuck, don't stop, please—"

"You ever touch yourself here?" Shane murmured, stroking him slowly. And after steeling himself for a moment, Daryl shook his head in the negative, refusing to look Shane in the eye.

"Do you want me to?" Shane asked him, seeming more than excited at the prospect. "It'll feel so good, baby. And it don't gotta be any more than that, if you don't want it. But fuck, Daryl. I want to. Just lemme try."

Daryl gnawed at his lower lip. "It won't hurt?" he whispered uncertainly.

Because even though he knew a half million men had done this and lived to tell the tale, he had to be sure. The magazines he'd flipped through hadn't been anything to go by, with every photo staged and edited. And there was still that chance that maybe the real thing wouldn't be nearly as good. Maybe it would be plain bad, and the faces of the men in all those pictures had been an enormous web of lies.

The smile Shane shot him was heartbreakingly tender. "No, baby. I won't hurt you." He climbed up Daryl's body, kissing him again in a way Daryl thought was less lust and more…heart. No one could be this good an actor.

"Okay," Daryl mumbled against his lips, "C'mon."

Shane couldn't have been more thrilled. He rushed back down Daryl's body, taking him in his mouth while simultaneously procuring a small bottle of lube from his pocket and pouring the sticky liquid out onto his fingers.

"Just relax for me," Shane drawled against the head of Daryl's cock, making it twitch at the vibrations. "Relax, baby."

Still propped to watch him, the look Daryl shot him then was one Shane would never forget. So trusting and open that the older boy could have come right then and there. But instead, he pressed one slick finger to Daryl's entrance, and slowly pushed inside. He was careful, so fucking careful as he moved his finger in and out. Shane's eyes remained glued to Daryl's face, vigilant for the smallest sign of pain or wanting this to stop.

But Daryl's expression seemed more confused than anything. The pressure inside him was new, not uncomfortable, but certainly nothing to write home about. Shane added a second finger, and there was a dull ache that faded almost immediately, but still no pain. Daryl was about to tell Shane to just give up. Maybe he wasn't the type of guy who got off on this, and that was fine, but there was no sense wasting the time they had—

"_Fuck!"_ Daryl gasped, hunching forwards as Shane's finger grazed over something inside him that made his whole body throb and his cock twitch violently.

"There we go," Shane murmured.

"Shane, what's—oh god, fuck, fuck I, _Shane_—" Daryl moaned when Shane focused the entirety of his attention on slowly fingering that one spot, moving his slick digit in tiny circles that made Daryl tremble. Pre-come pearled at the tip of his neglected cock, and all Daryl could think was _yes, yes, fuck yes._

"That's it, baby," Shane crooned, "Just go with it. Feels good, don't it? I _told_ you it would. Look at you. Fuck…"

And Daryl didn't really understand why Shane said those words with such reverence, because the younger Dixon was pretty positive that he looked a mess. A thin sheen of sweat had spread over his body, his cheeks were pink with arousal, and he couldn't seem to keep still. Not when every pass of Shane's fingers over that spot inside was just as good as the last, cresting waves that startled him in their intensity, and made his thighs shake.

"You look so good, Daryl. You've got no fuckin' idea. The things I could do to you…_Jesus_…"

His free hand went back to Daryl's member, stroking with a firm grip, and at the same slow pace as his fingers.

"You take it so good, baby. So tight around my fingers. 'Cuz y'ain't let no one else touch ya like this. Just me," Shane groaned, his words affecting himself just as much as Daryl.

"Shane…Shane, I wanna…I want…please…" Daryl whispered, one hand going to Shane's dark locks and tugging gently. The older boy got the message, and with one hand still prodding Daryl's prostate relentlessly, Shane slid up the lithe body underneath him and pressed their mouths together. There was something scorching hot about the way Daryl's cock twitched between them every time Shane rolled his tongue in the younger Dixon's mouth. And Shane was aching for relief himself, erection still trapped in his jeans, but there was nothing more pressing than the way Daryl kept moaning desperately against his lips.

"That feel good, Daryl? Does it feel so good?"

"Fuck, s-stop…Shane, gotta stop…m'gonna, fuck I'm—"

But Shane didn't stop. He crooked his fingers hard and rubbed against that spot insistently, biting and licking at Daryl's lips and watching the boy crumble in his arms.

"Don't hold back, baby. C'mon. Feel it for me. Wanna see you…" Shane encouraged. And Shane was moving against him, grinding slowly while he fucked his hand into Daryl. The younger boy's cock was trapped between them, and each time Shane rocked forwards, the head caught on the thin fabric of his shirt, making Daryl moan as it left a sticky trail.

Daryl didn't want it to be over so soon. He hated himself for not being able to hold out longer. But everything felt so good, and Shane's eyes were boring into him, tongue begging him, arms pulling him close like he was _meant_ to be there and fuck. One well-aimed jab of Shane's fingers, a thrust that had Daryl's cock rubbing against Shane's abs, and Daryl was coming hard.

"Shane, _Shane!_" Daryl cried out, arching in Shane's arms and shooting in thick spurts all over his chest. The older boy held him through it, whispering things in his ear like _fuck, Daryl, you're so good_, and _want you so bad, baby_ and _that's it, come for me, show me how good it feels_. So that when Daryl's cock finally gave its last furtive twitch, he couldn't stop trembling.

"I—I didn't _mean_ to. Told ya to stop, I _told_ ya—" Daryl began, but Shane immediately cut him off with low, easy words.

"Shh, Daryl. We got all night together. I wanted you to. I promise," Shane murmured, sitting up against the headboard and pulling Daryl into his chest. He ran his hands in soothing circles across the younger boy's clothed back. "Couldn't help myself is more like it. And now I get to take my time with you, get ya hard all over again. That sound good? You want that?"

Relieved, Daryl hummed a sound of acceptance against Shane's shoulder, allowing himself a moment to process. He pressed his head against Shane's heart, content to stay there for some time. Until, of course, he spotted the very insistent outline of Shane's erection through his jeans. Hesitantly, Daryl pressed his hand down and pet softly, sucking in a sharp breath when the rigid flesh underneath jerked at the attention.

"S'kinda unfair, dontcha think?" Daryl rasped, finally recognizing that Shane was still fully clothed.

Shane smiled deviously and hopped off the bed in a flash. He pulled his t-shirt up and over his head, watching Daryl watch him, and shimmied easily out of his jeans and boxers. Standing at the end of the bed, he beckoned Daryl towards him, chuckling a little when the boy knee-walked over.

"That's better," Shane said before pulling Daryl's mouth to his by the scruff of his neck. With his free hand he trailed his palm underneath Daryl's collar, and began to slowly push the garment from Daryl's shoulders.

But then Daryl shoved away from him so hard, and shot him a look so pained, that Shane immediately raised his hands in surrender.

"Hey, hey, s'alright," Shane whispered, trying to encourage Daryl to come back to him. But the younger boy knelt hesitantly, just out of his reach. "I ain't gonna do nothin' you don't want. I promised you that, and I keep my promises."

Reluctantly, Daryl edged forward again, only flinching slightly when Shane moved to gently pet the side of his neck.

"See? Nothin' to be afraid of," Shane soothed, "Now why don't ya tell me what's wrong, huh?"

Daryl glared at the wall to his left. They weren't supposed to be having this conversation. People in the business weren't supposed to ask questions, at least that's what Daryl had hoped. And that'd been a good half the reason that he'd called that damn hotline to begin with, rather than cruising by a bar and picking up a stranger.

"Can't take my shirt off," he muttered after a beat. _Please just drop it_.

Shane nodded in contemplation. "Can't, but you want to?"

And that caught Daryl's attention, because when he really thought about it, it wasn't the shirt that was the problem. Hell, he'd probably be much happier with nothing between them, but the prospect of Shane with _pity_ in his eyes was too great a risk. He couldn't stand to watch it happen. But then again, Shane hadn't resorted to pity so far. Not even when Daryl had admitted he'd never been with a guy, or that his brother was a felon.

"I—" Daryl croaked, "I've got scars."

"They don't matter," Shane responded without an ounce of doubt in his voice. Because to Shane, they didn't. He'd already met Daryl. He already knew him, wanted him, watched him come apart in his arms. And there was nothing Daryl could show him now that would change his mind. "I just want you. All of you."

For several moments, Daryl examined Shane's face for any sign of a lie. And when he found none, he kept the older boy's gaze as he shrugged out of his flannel shirt, shucking it to the side and trying to keep from shaking.

"That's it," Shane murmured before pulling Daryl into another kiss. He didn't stop until the younger boy was half-hard against him, still shivering slightly but more out of arousal than fear. "Tell me what you want, Daryl. Anything. I'll give you anything. Just gotta tell me."

"I—I w-want," Daryl took a deep, steadying breath. "Want ya to fuck me, Shane."

He heard the other man's breathing stutter.

"Fuck," Shane breathed, "I wanna fuck you. Second I saw you, baby, I had to fuckin' have you. Wanted it so bad," Shane groaned.

"Then…have me," Daryl breathed, "Want ya to have me."

In a flurry of motion, Daryl was pinned to the bed, with Shane sucking bruises across his neck.

"Gotta flip over for me. Gonna open you up s'more," Shane hurried to explain. And this was kind of the part Daryl was dreading. The part when Shane would really _see_. But fuck, he wanted this bad enough that whatever came next damn well had to be worth it. So only trembling slightly, Daryl let Shane maneuver him onto his hands and knees.

He listened closely, waiting for the gasp of horror. But there was none. Instead, they both held their breath for a beat, before Shane leaned forward and pressed his lips to the center of Daryl's back, right across one of the ugliest of his scars. Daryl's arms trembled at the feeling.

But this wasn't some damn romance novel. They weren't going to sit around talking about their feelings, and if Shane had cut this off now to ask for answers, Daryl might have hit him. Fortunately, the older boy seemed to know better. His mouth travelled down the scarred planes of Daryl's back, kissing untouched skin and red marks alike. When he finally reached the perfect globes of Daryl's ass, Shane didn't hesitate a second before pulling apart those fleshy mounds and diving in tongue-first.

The piece of Daryl's arousal still crippled by anxiety was abruptly unleashed, and Daryl was rocking back against Shane's mouth and moaning into the sheets, hard cock hanging between his legs. Still warm and wet from before, it wasn't difficult for Shane to push in two fingers, crooking them in a way that made Daryl squirm and groan.

He added a third, pressing in hard until Daryl was fucking himself back against them, a picture of wanton passion.

"Shane, c'mon, _c'mon_," Daryl begged.

"Gotta be patient, Daryl. Ain't gonna hurt you," Shane tsked.

"M'ready. M'ready Shane, don't make me wait no more," Daryl moaned. Shane couldn't see his face, but if he had to guess, he'd figure it was a brilliant scarlet by now.

"Fuck, Daryl…" Shane breathed, and the younger man heard the tell-tale sound of a condom wrapper being ripped open.

"You stop me if I hurt you," Shane demanded as he lined himself up, "Don't you let me hurt you, Daryl, m'fuckin' serious."

"I _will_. Just c'mon, Shane. C'mon, I need it," Daryl promised in a low voice. And Shane was done, absolutely fucking finished, when Daryl pleaded with him so softly. A part of him couldn't believe he'd held out this long. And really, it had been years since he'd had to show this much restraint in bed, with a client or otherwise.

"Look at me," Shane said, and Daryl craned his neck to meet the other man's gaze. In that moment, Shane sank home. He had the pleasure of seeing the shudder ripple down Daryl's back, and hearing him gasp. When Shane bottomed out, he held himself still as could be, pressing kisses against Daryl's shoulder as he allowed the boy to adjust.

"Move, move…" Daryl rasped, eying Shane over his shoulder and looking utterly wrecked. The pressure- the realization that he'd been filled- it was strange, sure. But it didn't hurt. And he'd waited so long and god, he just wanted more and _now_.

With one hand kneading at Daryl's shoulder, Shane pulled out just a couple of inches, then slowly pushed back inside.

The sound Daryl made nearly sent Shane over the edge.

"Fuck, Shane," Daryl whimpered, head hanging low and arms shaking.

"Shh, baby. I've got you," Shane murmured back, and finally began to thrust outright. He kept his movements slow and predictable. Deep, but not hard, for his sake as much as Daryl's. Christ, he was supposed to be a fucking professional at this, but every time Daryl moaned his name, Shane found himself fighting not to come.

Daryl was rocking back to meet him, and clearly getting desperate.

"Shane, please," Daryl groaned.

"Please what, baby? What do you need?" Shane drawled. He punctuated the statement with a particularly stiff thrust, and Daryl's moans were absorbed by the bedspread.

"Ha- _harder_," Daryl begged, and Shane hoped the boy could feel the way his cock throbbed at that.

"Harder?" Shane asked him, now bucking against Daryl forcefully, two hands grasping the younger Dixon by the hips and rendering him immobile. "Like that, Daryl? Is that good?"

"Fuck, fuck," Daryl whimpered with his forehead pushed into the mattress. Because he was close, so fucking close even though he'd already come once tonight and Shane wasn't even bothering to touch his cock. All at once, Shane pulled out of him and sat back on his knees, grinning when Daryl released a near-silent whine.

But he didn't have much time to complain, because Shane was flipping him over effortlessly, and shoving a pillow under his lower back.

The dark-haired man lined himself up again, and Daryl had nowhere to look but his eyes. Shane kissed him hard, only pulling back when he finally bottomed out inside Daryl's willing body.

"See that? Can't fuckin' miss that," Shane groaned, pressing his forehead to Daryl's. "Watchin' you like this, _Jesus_, you've got no idea what it does to me."

Shane rocked into him slow and deep, using his free hand to stroke Daryl's face, of all places. He brushed the sweat-soaked hair out of Daryl's eyes, grazed his knuckles down the side of his jaw. And even with two hands now free to do as they pleased, Daryl went to touch Shane rather than himself. Calloused hands clutched onto broad shoulders, then scratching blunt nails over defined pecs. Shane moved faster.

"Please," Daryl gasped, even though he didn't know what he was pleading for. He'd never encompassed someone's whole attention before, never spent so many sequential moments consuming someone's world. Even when his dad had beat him, Daryl had always seen his mind go somewhere else, to whatever deep and raging roots had brought on this particular bout of violence.

But Shane, Shane was watching him as if he couldn't stand to blink, didn't want to miss a millisecond. His lips were just barely parted, enough so that Daryl could hear each harsh pleasured pant hiss through his teeth. It was hard to be this close to someone, considering Daryl didn't much like being touched under normal circumstances. Shane could see everything, all of him. And he wasn't turning away.

Tonight was so fucking far from whatever Daryl had expected.

"Fuck, Daryl," Shane groaned, "You take it so good. Feel so good around me."

Shane rolled his hips into the tight, wet heat. A smooth movement, reflecting none of the desperation that was creeping up his spine.

"You were made for this. Fuckin' made for me, baby," Shane moaned, dragging a hand across Daryl's chest. On the next thrust he shifted the angle, just a little, and Daryl wailed beneath him, eyes scrunching shut and mouth falling open.

"Fuck! Do that…make me…_please_, Shane!" Daryl whimpered, voice crackling into a watery gasp when Shane began to drive into his prostate, hips canting faster. His eyes danced over Daryl's body, memorizing every curve and expression. There was something utterly sinful about watching the boy's nuts tighten and twitch as he got close, and knowing he was the one making Daryl feel that way.

"Feel so good, Daryl. You're so fucking _good_," Shane growled against his lips, before snaking a hand between them to stroke the younger man in time with his thrusts.

Now, there was no chance of holding back. Daryl's whole body was on fire, vibrating and trembling with the force of it. He'd never felt this good before, and wanted to place this moment on loop, and live it forever. But it was impossible to think with Shane stimulating him so thoroughly, inside him and over him and all around him and fuck. Shane moved in again, peppered feather-light kisses across his cheeks and looked down at him like he was important, the most important thing in the whole fucking world. And Daryl couldn't. He just could not.

"Shane…I'm gonna…you're gonna make me…Shane, oh fuck, _Shane!_"

Shane's mouth dropped open in awed delight as Daryl came. Came like it was being punched out of him, like if he didn't he'd _die_, all across his chest and Shane's hand. His back bowed off the bed and lungs all but shut down entirely.

And even if Shane had been much younger, even if they hadn't been at this for hours now, the debauched sight Daryl made laying underneath him shivering in pleasure completely shattered the more experienced man's resolve.

With those blue eyes staring up at him with a look of both shocked bliss, Shane shoved as deep as he could go and came hard, moaning Daryl's name. He might have blacked out, for a short while.

Despite the fact that Shane was laying almost entirely on top of Daryl, the latter didn't really mind. The closeness was good. And he knew that as soon as Shane deigned to peel their sticky bodies away from each other, the man would be gone, job completed and paycheck awaiting him.

When Shane finally wrenched himself onto his feet, with great difficulty, Daryl couldn't help but feel disappointed. Then when Shade strode right back into the room, still naked and with washcloth in hand, Daryl turned utterly bewildered. The older boy cleaned him off carefully, gently. He deposited the washcloth in the hamper, flicked off the lights, and padded right back over to where Daryl timidly lay.

Still puzzled, Daryl put up no fight when Shane tucked them both under the covers, or even when a heavy arm wrapped around him from behind, pulling him into Shane's chest.

"You're…you're stayin'?" Daryl whispered.

"Mmm. 'Course I am," Shane murmured against the back of his neck. "Night ain't over yet."

"Ya don't gotta," Daryl replied uncertainly, "I mean, I ain't gonna ask ya for nothin' else. If ya wanna go…"

"Baby," Shane sighed, and Daryl's heart fluttered obnoxiously at the nickname. He let Shane pull him so they could look each other in the eye. "I wanna be here. I do. Ain't that enough?"

Daryl stared up at him blankly, tongue suddenly much too heavy in his mouth. Then, Shane did about the last thing Daryl expected. He leaned down, and kissed him.

It was nothing like their kisses from before. This was slow as molasses, promising nothing but the opportunity to meld their bodies closer. Shane pulled back just a hair, then pressed forward for one final, sweet peck.

"Go to sleep, baby," Shane murmured affectionately, then chuckled to himself. "Ya know, I've never called someone that before. I like it, though. For you."

Shane burrowed down beside him. And with the warm, reassuring weight behind him, all around him, it wasn't hard for Daryl to find sleep.

TWDTWDTWDTWD

Daryl awoke to an empty bed. And even though he wasn't surprised, the loss still stung like an open wound.

It was only after he'd rubbed haphazardly at his red eyes, feeling stupid and betrayed, that Daryl registered the smell floating through the small apartment. Coffee.

He threw on some sweatpants and tread slowly down the hall, stopping in his tracks just before he rounded the corner to the kitchen. His bedroom door had muffled the sound, but Shane was talking on the phone, dishes clattering as he attempted to get some sort of breakfast together.

"Hey Eloise, it's Shane…yeah I know I can call ya Elle, but I like Eloise better…mmhmm, yeah…look, just wanted to let ya know that the guy last night backed out last minute…yeah, wasn't even home when I got there…nah, ain't right to charge him for services he never got to enjoy, right? And I ended up spendin' the night in bed with a hot little number of my own, so we can just call it even…well ain't _you_ the nosy one. None of your damn business…yup, talk to you then…later, doll-face."

Shane spun back around, meaning to throw his phone back onto the counter. Daryl was right behind him.

"Jesus, Daryl. We oughta get you a bell or somethin'," Shane breathed, startled but grinning nonetheless.

"What was that about?" Daryl immediately questioned, refusing to smile back.

Shane inched towards him, splaying a hand over Daryl's hip and rubbing softly.

"Well I wanted to tell ya over _breakfast_," Shane began, "But I ain't chargin' ya for last night."

"I've got the money," Daryl immediately argued, face closing off like cell doors slamming shut.

"Ain't about that," Shane drawled, "The reason I ain't chargin' you is, I wanna see you again."

"You…do?"

"How could I not?" Shane asked with a smirk, "Last night, that was…_fuck._ You can't possibly think it's always like that. _It's not._ Most of the time it's just goin' through the motions. But last night_… _I mean _that_, that was fuckin'…somethin' else. You're somethin' else, Daryl."

"Oh," Daryl replied thickly, but didn't protest when Shane slithered closer, wrapping his arms around him.

"Yeah. Oh," Shane replied warmly. "So what do you think? You wanna see me again?"

Even without the hopeful, anxious look Shane was giving him, Daryl was a complete goner.

"Yeah," he rasped, pressing closer to Shane's solid body, "Think I'd like that."


End file.
